


I promise not to hurt anyone (except I did)

by MadameMin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Lance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Langst, Pidge is a good friend, They are children okay, Trauma, Vomiting, first kill, platonic plance, very platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMin/pseuds/MadameMin
Summary: "Lance," Keith said hoarsely. "Don’t go there; there’s nothing to see. It’s over.”No, Lance wanted to argue. It was not over. It would only end when Lance went there and made sure that Galra's heart was still beating because Lance did not hit lethal points; he was not a killer.//Lance has never killed anyone. He made sure to hit non-lethal points with his gun, because he was not, in anyway, a murder.Until he was.





	I promise not to hurt anyone (except I did)

**Author's Note:**

> Time line: Between first and second seasons
> 
> Uh, I never know what to say in these.  
> Enjoy??? :)

Lance tried to concentrate on the sound of his own breathing. His ears deafened to the battle around him (the noise of far-flung blasts, Keith's sword slicing through the air, the sound of lasers coming out of the Galra's weapons, all seeming to dissolve into a distant and incomprehensible buzz). With blue eyes half-closed in concentration, heart pounding in anticipation, Lance moved his finger and squeezed the trigger of his weapon, snatching the head of four druids simultaneously.

Feeling a luscious caress of satisfaction in his stomach, the paladin turned his back on his now beheaded enemies and returned to concentrate on the rest of the battle, where the antagonists were not exactly without a head, despite Lance's wishes. The requirement of positive emotions in the boy died the moment his eyes landed on the battlefield, where the terrible realization struck him like a punch in the face: they were losing. Badly.  
This was relatively uncommon for the Voltron team, though Lance had to admit that battle was being harsh. Five enormous Galra ships equipped with sophisticated weapons and too technological even for Hunk and Pidge, the resident geniuses. Each ship carried about a hundred druid soldiers and at least fifty flesh-bones, all armed with powerful blasters, destructive bombs, and long-range shock-guns (which, Lance asserted from his own experience, were no joke).

He could see Hunk wearily leaning against one of the craters of the shattered moon where the battle between the remnants was taking part. He had broken his ankle during the battle, and, as Shiro shouted at the communicators as he fought a particularly skillful Galra, he would not be much help on the field, although he could still, from afar, activate bombs on what remained of the enemy ships.

Keith, not too far away, was battling with four Galra simultaneously, and although his face was impassive as it always was in battle, Lance could see sweat flowing like a cascade through the swordsman's pale face. Shiro was battling an entire entourage of Galras alone, even if he did it with the ease of serving cereal. Pidge, however, was in greater difficulty, sweating and gasping for air as she struggled with a Galra three times her size, gradually moving away from the group during the battle.

Lance stepped closer to Keith, who now dealt with the last two soldiers. He lifted his gun and shot the soldier's ankle, which made him fall in pain immediately. He let Keith take over the remaining Galra, which he did impressively fast. Without needing to change any word, both strode forward in the direction of Shiro, who was battling with three seemingly experienced Galra, finally showing some difficulty.

The Cuban interrupted his race before Keith, stopping where he could have a privileged view of the battle. The shorter boy, on the other hand, furiously advanced to one of the Galra, pulling them away from Shiro with a swipe of sword. Shiro, then, dealt with the second soldier, leaving the third to Lance.

The sniper took a deep breath, directing his eyes and gun at the soldier's thigh. It was a clear shot, but despite the yell of agony, the soldier did not fall. Gritting his teeth in irritation, Lance positioned the weapon again, this time aiming at a non-lethal spot on the Galra's back, which finally subsided, crashing to the floor with an audible scream of pain.

Lance lowered the weapon in time to see the Galra with whom Keith was fighting get knocked out, and Shiro's robotic arm hit the side of the remained one's head, making him faint and join the others on the floor. There was silence for a moment, except for the heavy gasp of the three paladins, all thirsting for air.

"Good job, team," Shiro said, finally catching his breath. He rested his hand on the backs of both as if praising them for the battle.

The countenance of a smile crackled on Lance's lips, and he opened his mouth to make a smug remark and break the battle atmosphere when he was interrupted by a hoarse, distant cry.

The muscles in Lance's body stiffened at once. His eyes widened and the smile that had been present seconds before disappeared as if it had never existed. His throat closed as if he were being held tight by invisible hands, and he could see Keith and Shiro tensing exactly two seconds before the three of them darted toward the terrible, sharp sound.

Pidge.

Lance ran like he had never done in his life. Even with his lungs on fire and his heart hammering at a speed that could not be healthy, the paladin's body forced itself to continue down the path to the source of the scream, his thoughts involved only by Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, Pidge, Pidge ...

When they finally reached the place where the girl was, Hunk bombarded them with questions through the communicators. Lance, however, did not understand one of them, for his mind seemed to have frozen through a cold dread.

Pidge laid on the dirt floor as her ankle gushed blood from a deep cut, made by a seemingly sharp blade. The Galra, expressionless, held a sword above her head, followed by the eyes of an unarmed green paladin. 

Lance did not think about the time, not really. Only a resounding She will die echoed in her head, like a lugubrious march. Protecting Pidge, his mind mechanized as Lance's hands moved to his weapon, lifting it, and yet looking blurred and confusing except for the battle scene where the murderous sword descended toward Pidge, pulling the trigger. There was no aim or logical thought, but the bullet sank into the soldier's temple, which uttered one last gasp before falling. Lance could hear a final, lethal grunt, and then nothing more. There was a strange buzz in his ears, as if he were on a particularly fast roller-coaster ride, though the world had never seemed so slow to Lance. He tried to focus on his breathing. 

In, out.

Weapon. Blood. Keith and Shiro raised the green paladin (weren’t they on his side seconds ago?), And her little body was completely bloody, his uniform white tinged red. 

In, out. 

Was it Lance who had done that? No, no, no. Had he killed Pidge? Was she dead? 

In, out. 

Blue eyes met the browns, and Pidge was alive. 

In, out.

Lance's eyes flicked to the body, lying in the middle of the battlefield. A small pool of blood formed at the side of his head, and his body was stretched out on the floor anyway, face planted on the floor, the action of breathing no longer happening. Dead. 

In, out. 

Pidge. Weapon. Blood. So much blood ... 

In, out. 

Lance did not realize that he was beginning to walk toward the body until he was stopped. A hand rested firmly on his chest, preventing the paladin from advancing. 

Keith looked at him with concern, despair and sadness taking over his features. Mechanically, Lance stepped forward, but there was no fervor in the action. 

“Lance," Keith said hoarsely. "Don’t go there; there’s nothing to see. It’s over.”

No, Lance wanted to argue. It was not over. It would only end when Lance went there and made sure that Galra's heart was still beating because Lance did not hit lethal points; he was not a killer. 

Lance looked around wildly. Pidge was crying, biting her lower lip hard to contain a sob. Shiro, enduring it, refused to meet the blue paladin's gaze. The mental paralysis for which Lance seemed to be immersed began to fade, and gradually panic and horror began to climb from his stomach to his throat. His hands shook with such force that his weapon fell to the ground with a thud, turning back into its original bayard form. 

“He's fine," Lance murmured, looking desperately at Keith, though the truth undoubtedly hung over them both like a tempestuous cloud of terrors. “He is fine. He- he's fine because I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer, Keith. I-I swear.” The knot that seemed to have formed in his throat finally broke into a sob. "I'm not a murderer, I'm not a murderer, I'm not a murderer ...”

So why did you kill someone?

 

He could not remember the trip back to the Castle. He only came back to the sound of metal feet scratching the floor. He saw, out of the window in Blue, Shiro jumping out of Black, still supporting Pidge, and running toward Hospital Wing, with Keith, who was carrying Hunk, in his entanglement. Lance, however, made no mention of following them just sinking further into his bank. 

He could feel Blue's presence in the contours of his mind, trying to come in and comfort him, but the blue paladin blocked her. He did not want to talk to anyone right now, not even Blue. Repeated words echoed in his head, making his vision blur. 

Killer. His fingers pulling the trigger, the bullet sticking into the lethal spot on Galra's head, the pool of blood he had left. Killer. Pidge coming out from under the grip of the corpse, his little body covered in blood from head to toe. Killer. The pool of blood around the soldier's dead head, where drops of blood still dripped so far, with a soft, slow plop, where the red drops would gather, gradually increasing the scarlet lake's preformed ... 

Lance’s back arched up as he vomited. He put all he had on the cold floor of Blue, and when there was nothing to be vomited, he stood there, choking and sobbing, his lips dry and cracked with dehydration. After a while, he leaned against the cold wall of his lion, exhausted. His face was wet with tears, but Lance was too tired to sob. He just sat there, silent.

Did the Galra have a family? Children, a wife perhaps? Were they waiting for a soldier who would never return? Would your parents have to read your death in a paper signed by the Empire?

He felt a craving creep down his throat again, and he closed his eyes just as a knock on the door was heard. Without waiting for a response (which, if Lance would admit it, it would be a "no"), Blue's door opened, revealing Pidge's small, weary figure who had changed his bloody Voltron uniform over Terran clothing, and Lance saw a bandage covering the cut he had made earlier in battle, though the cryo-pods probably would have done a good deal of damage. In an uncharacteristically sweet voice, the girl warned,

“Lance? It's me, Pidge. I just came to see if you're ...”

However, upon entering the ship completely, the paladin was silenced. Her eyes went through the vomit pool in the lion's corner, until they reached Lance, on the opposite side, who was a mess, still wearing his armor, with weeping marks on his face, his lips hurt and his throat dry and aching with sobs and loss of water.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds, Pidge's eyes expressionless and hard, as well as his face. Then, without a word, she found her way to Lance's body in a matter of seconds.

Lance thought there were no more tears to shed, or even force to sob, but as he was wrapped in Pidge's warm, familiar, secure arms, his tears came easily. His whole body shook, and sobs seemed louder than ever, as his hands clutched Pidge's T-shirt as if it were a lifeboat in the midst of an ocean of despair. The girl did not seem bothered to have her T-shirt drenched, and murmured in her ear.

"It's all right, you're fine, we're fine," she said, and Lance was slow to realize she was crying too.

"I-I'm a monster," Lance gasped, still hugging Pidge, the words seeming to weigh in his mind.

"Oh, Lance," Pidge whispered, sounding shattered. She moved away from him just enough to meet his eyes, tears still flowing freely over her face, while Lance's had ceased, replaced by contained sobs. "You're not a monster, never. You saved my life out there today, okay? You're my brother, not a monster.”

“My mother," Lance sobbed. "I- she will not take me back when we get back. S-she won’t want a murderer in the family.”

He sobbed again, and Pidge shook him lightly to face her again. Assuming a determined and hard expression, the girl asked, "Do you consider Shiro a monster?"

Lance looked at her in alarm as he stuttered,"Of course not! He ... He did what he did for lack of choice.”

"Just like you," Pidge said, and Lance looked away, lower lip trembling, even if there were no more tears to be poured. It's different, he wanted to argue. "You did what you did today because you had no choice. You may not realize it now, but you saved my life. That Galra would have killed me without thinking twice, and it was me or him. There's no harder decision than that, and even then, you managed to take it. And I, the team, your family, and everyone who matters, know you'd never hurt anything or anyone if you could. You're not a monster, Lance.”

The Cuban stared at her for a few seconds before throwing himself forward, enveloping the smaller girl in a hug tight enough to blow the air out of her lungs.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse and shattered, but truly grateful.

They separated after a few minutes, both walking silently toward the door.

"Come on, I'll help you clean up and change. You stink," Pidge said, wringing a half smile from Lance. Neither of them made a move. “Hey. Are you alright?”

He was slow to reply.

"No," he said honestly. He looked at Pidge, then, a gleam of affection, love, and complete respect beginning to appear in the blue orbs. “But I'll be.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, about this fic. *sighs*  
> As Voltron is a kids show, so it obviously can`t adress things like the trauma that killing someone would have on children, because that`s what the paladins are. This is supposed to be my view in Lance`s trauma, and I was going to do just hurt/hurt, but I`m weak for Platonic Plance. So, yeah.
> 
> Please, leave kudos or a comment! They are really aprecciated! :D


End file.
